


Marks That Scar

by bipolarweeb



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Complete, F/M, One Shot, POV Second Person, So much angst, it’s basically just an angry make out sesh, kinda dubious but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23817490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipolarweeb/pseuds/bipolarweeb
Summary: After days of dealing with him constantly belittling you, it feels good to have him completely at your mercy.*This is going off of the last visual novel of Day 7 of Ray’s route
Relationships: Choi Saeran & Main Character, Choi Saeran & Reader, Choi Saeran/Main Character, Choi Saeran/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 132





	Marks That Scar

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I have no idea what this is. It’s so different from what I usually write, and I’m honestly kinda scared to post it bc I’m a fluff writer not a smut writer. Not that this is quite smut, but it’s def out of my comfort zone. 
> 
> _All spoken dialogue taken directly from the game will be italicized_

_This isn’t him_ , you keep telling yourself as he leans in closer and closer to your face, stealing your air. 

The arm he has propped against the wall on your right side and his solid form in front of you are effectively caging you in, but you don’t find yourself feeling trapped. You don’t really feel scared either, as you don’t think the man in front of you would ever physically hurt you. 

But you don’t want to admit his _words_ are hurting you. Not his words about you, but his words about Ray. Hearing Ray constantly say he’s weak and useless made your heart break, but hearing the man pinning you against the wall call Ray the weakest and most useless parts of himself is sparking an angry fire in you you can’t explain. 

You also don’t want to admit that this side of Ray—Saeran—is making your pulse quicken for reasons other than anger. Ray had always been attractive, but to your frustration, he’d always been too afraid to get too close to you, though you tried to make it clear when you kissed him in the garden that you didn’t mind.

The way the man in front of you—this man with Ray’s face—is so _close_ and making your blood boil with anger... and something else. It seems to be exacerbating how much you wish he would do something, anything, with the cackling energy in the room.

You feel almost unbearably hot. The potent rage and the way he makes you feel like you’re engulfed by fire is something you’ve never experienced before.

“ _—You’ll get on my nerves if you shiver like that!_ ” You hear him say in your ear, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

The low tone of his voice, along with his breath in your ear makes you tremble even more. You try not to focus on him being so close to you, instead you think about the incendiary comments he’s making about Ray—himself really—and you, though you do your best to not let your expression give you away. 

Despite this, you feel a little smirk grace your lips when you hear his fist clench tighter against the wall by your head. You can tell he’s getting frustrated by your lack of response to him. 

Your satisfaction is quickly replaced with surprise when he says “ _Should I bite your head off or something?_ ” 

And then, so quickly your eyes can’t even comprehend what he’s doing, he leans in and places a sharp bite to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. It catches you off guard and you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips at the stinging pain. 

You automatically try to push him away, both hands on either side of the lapels on his jacket, but he holds you in place with one hand on your shoulder and one with a tight grip on your hair. You do your best not to whimper.

You can hear him whispering something in your ear but you’re so shocked by the fact that he just _bit_ you you only catch the last bit of it.

“— _provoke me. Make me mad. Mess with me. Come on, try it... Ugh this is no fun._ ”

Saeran pulls away, and something in your eyes must give away that you’re angry because his mouth tilts in a mocking smirk. 

Somewhere in your addled brain, you know you shouldn’t indulge him. Somewhere in your mind you know he’s just trying to belittle you to make himself feel stronger. Somewhere in your mind you feel pity and sorrow for the boy who must have a suffered so much abuse at the hand of someone he sees as his savior. 

And somewhere in you your heart breaks for him, knowing he felt like he had to sever the weaker parts of himself in order to feel safe, so much so that he created a whole other person. And you know, somewhere in him, that part is still there, no matter how much he denies it.

But right now you don’t find yourself thinking of any of these things. 

Right now, all you can think about is slapping the smirk right off Saeran’s face. 

He takes a step back from you, but you still feel like he’s robbing you of all your oxygen as he leans toward your face.

 _”You’re no fun—and I’m not playing with a boring toy_.” he pouts. 

He takes another step back, his knees becoming level with the mattress of the bed. You finally see an opportunity.

You press yourself back against the wall despite Saeran being several feet from you. You pull your arms in, crossing them, to try to seem small. 

“You think I’m boring?” you try to sound disappointed, sticking your lower lip out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

He clenches a fist. “Oh, so now you decide to open your disgusting mouth?” he snaps at you, and he starts to take a step toward you, but he doesn’t get the chance to put his foot on the ground. 

Utilizing all your anger, you launch yourself at him, and if his raised eyebrows are any indicator, you’ve somehow managed to surprise him.

Trying to take advantage of this, you place the heel of your hand underneath his chin, using your momentum to push as hard as you can. His head snaps back, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards onto the bed. 

You quickly jump on top of him, placing your knees on either side of his hips. You grab each of his thin wrists in one of your hands, holding them above his head. Your other hand presses down on his chest, effectively pinning him to the mattress. 

“You think I’m boring, Saeran?” you repeat fiercely, and at this point he’s just looking up at you with one eyebrow raised, green eyes more curious than anything else. 

“Oh,” he says, laughing mockingly, “Is my toy finally ready to play?” That infuriating smirk tilts his lips once again and that’s the last straw. 

Your fingers tighten around his wrists and your other hand grabs his chin. “Maybe this will finally get you to _shut up._ ” And with that you lean down to crush your lips to his in a punishing kiss. 

Saeran responds immediately, pushing back against your lips as hard as he can, though you’re careful not to let go of him. You kiss him even harder, pushing his head back into the pillow, trying to show him this isn’t something he’ll be able to control.

A sudden sharp bite to your lower lip makes you gasp and you pull back to see Saeran with a devilish grin on his face.

You bring your free hand up to touch your lip, and when you see he didn’t draw blood, you move it back to his chest, holding him down.

“This is a little different from how you kissed Ray in the garden,” he says haughtily, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Not that I’m complaining. But make no mistake princess, I may have Ray’s face, but he’s gone, no matter how much you think you can bring him back.”

“Shut _up_ ,” you spit at him, and your nails dig into his wrists before you press another bruising kiss to his lips. 

This time he doesn’t try to push against you, instead he lets you dominate the kiss. 

You take advantage of this, kissing him as harshly as you can, teeth present in every kiss you place on his lips. You nip along his lower lip before running your tongue along the little bites. 

In an act of defiance, he surprises you by nipping at your tongue, catching it briefly between his teeth before you make a move to shove your mouth against his lips. He responds by running his tongue along yours, and you have to make an effort not to moan at the feeling.

Your urge to touch him, to caress his face, to run your fingers through his hair, nearly overwhelms you. It almost makes you let up on the pressure you have on his wrists and chest, but you suppose that’s one sacrifice you have to make in order to do something as foolish as this.

And that’s exactly what kissing Saeran is. Foolish. But you can’t bring yourself to care because you’re so drunk on the power of knowing you have this boy under you, completely at your mercy. 

After he treated you so cruelly for the last couple of days, it feels so good to be able to have some of the power back. 

After a few minutes, you decide to move from his lips to the pale, inviting skin of his neck, kissing from his jaw as far down as his shirt will allow. And when his shirt becomes an obstacle, you start on undoing his jacket and button up with your free hand. 

When all of the buttons are undone, you push the jacket and shirt out of the way, leaving his chest and abdomen exposed. You bring your hand to his bare chest, tracing the pale skin with your fingers. 

You press your forehead against his before softly saying, “It hardly seems fair, don’t you think? That you can leave a mark on me? That you can do whatever you want to me without consequence?”

You feel his wrists tense for a moment before he exhales a laugh from his nose. “May be, princess, but you seem to be forgetting you’re mine to play with.”

“Nope,” you breathe in his ear, and emphasize the word with one more nip to his lower lip before you move your mouth back to his neck. 

You suck marks along his throat and chest, nibbling and kissing the skin to be sure it will bruise come tomorrow, just as you’re sure the place he bit you will do.

As you go down his chest, you have to adjust your grip on his hands so you can reach where you want, moving them so they’re pinned by his sides instead of over his head.

You can hear a brief grunt of surprise as you go lower and lower on his torso, and he moans faintly as you get closer to his stomach. You feel a small victory in knowing you’re affecting him like this, that he’s not as immune to you as he tried to make you believe.

You pull back to admire your work, your eyes running down the trail of wet, red marks you left on his body. 

You can’t help but notice how his ribs poke out along his abdomen, how his low trousers show the sharp angles of his hipbones along otherwise smooth skin. Now that you think about it, even his wrists feel fragile in your grip, and a brief thought of how you could’ve broken the bones in your hands runs through your mind. 

All of the sudden, you feel the angry haze in your head begin to clear. All of the sudden you feel your heart drop as you realize you’re doing exactly what he’s been doing ever since Ray disappeared; trying to gain strength from overpowering someone else.

With this thought you must loosen your grip on him because before you can even comprehend what’s happening, Saeran has freed his hands, hooked a leg over your hip and flipped you over. 

The first thing you notice is a hand at your collarbone, close to your throat; not squeezing, just making the sudden power change very apparent. 

When you focus on Saeran’s face above yours, you can see anger clear in his features. 

His fingers flex against your skin as he leans in closer to your face. “Don’t you dare look at me like that,” he whispers, his voice lethal. 

“Like what?” you breathe, still not afraid despite your current position. 

“Like you _pity_ me,” he spits out, and brings his hand up to push some hair back from your face before fisting it in his hand. You try not to cry out the sudden sting on your scalp. “It’s exactly how you looked at Ray after you kissed him in the garden. I am not Ray. Even if I do have this pathetic body, I am not weak like him. He’s gone, princess, so wipe that look off your face because _I am not him_.”

You bring a hand up to gently cradle his cheek. You can still see him in Saeran’s features. No matter what he says, you can’t bring yourself to believe Ray is gone. You refuse to believe the cruel part of Saeran is all that’s left. He said that Ray was created out of every weak part of him. That part may be dormant, but there’s no way it could just be completely eradicated. 

You close your eyes. “You say Ray is weak? No, that’s not true, Saeran. Ray is kind. Smart. He has a big heart, and I know somewhere, Ray still lives in you. Whatever your savior has been telling you about him isn’t true!”

His hand comes back to rest on your throat. 

“Be quiet! You know nothing about me or my savior!” Saeran bites out.

“I know,” you begin softly, and wrap your fingers around the hand on your neck. “that you and Ray are one. And you can repress it and deny it, but in the end there’s nothing you can do about it, Saeran.”

“ _Shut up!_ “ he shouts, and the next thing you know his lips are on yours, hard and desperate. 

He’s trying to make the kiss harsh and punishing, but you decide you aren’t going to let him. Instead, you bring both of your hands up to cradle his cheeks, running your thumbs over his face gently. 

He breaks away from you to grab your wrists, removing your hands from his face. 

“Don’t do that!” he snaps at you. 

“Do what?” you ask softly. 

“Don’t touch me like that!”

“Like what?”

He lets out a frustrated noise. “Like I’m going to break! I’m not Ray!”

You sigh as you bring a hand up to move his bangs from his face. He flinches at the touch before pinning your hand down by your head. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you the way I did earlier, Saeran. I shouldn’t have and it was wrong.”

“ _You’re sorry_?” he asks in disbelief.

“Yes.” You try to sit up on the bed, and surprisingly he lets you. 

You take one of his hands and run your fingers over his bony knuckles before he snatches it away. 

“And I think you should go,” you say softly. 

Confusion colors his face for a moment before he gets indignant. “No,” he says, and leans back over you, pushing you back into the mattress. 

He grabs your chin with two fingers. “You’re my toy and I’ll play with you however long I please!”

He kisses you again, still trying to rekindle the angry fire you had a few minutes ago. He pushes the fabric of your shirt up, placing his hands on either side of your waist. His fingernails dig deeper into your skin the longer you don’t respond to him. 

He lets out a frustrated groan against your mouth and pulls back. Just as he’s about to yell at you some more you hear a knock on the door. 

“Um... Mr. Ra— I-I mean Mr. S-Saeran? Are you in there?”

Saeran sits up, knees still on either side of your hips, still pinning you on the bed. 

“Go away!” he snaps at the voice behind the door. “I’m busy.”

“Yes s-sir, but the savior is asking for you. She wants to speak with you right n-now.”

You see something flash in Saeran’s eyes before he bites out “Fine.”

You can hear the audible sigh of relief from the believer but you don’t hear any retreating footsteps, so you figure he must’ve been told to wait for Saeran. 

And although Saeran said he’d go speak to the savior, he still hasn’t moved from his place on top of you. 

He looks down at you, the fingers on your chin tilting your head up. You see his eyes stray to the bite mark on your neck, but his expression is unreadable.

“This isn’t over,” he promises, “I’m not done playing with you yet.”

You bring a hand up to remove his fingers from your face. You take his hand instead, and his eyes grow big at the tender gesture. 

You sigh. “Sure.”

He pulls his hand out of yours like you’ve burned him, jumping off of you just as quickly. He buttons up his shirt and jacket with deft fingers, while you stay laying on the bed, gazing at him. 

When he looks up at you, anger flashes in his eyes.

He takes a step toward you and you swiftly sit up. “I told you not to look at me like th—”

“Mr. Saeran?” The meek voice outside the door calls again.

Saeran grits his teeth, taking another step toward you. He grabs your face with one hand and presses a hard kiss to your lips before turning and exiting the room.

You can hear him cursing at the believer as they walk away from your room, footsteps resonating down the hall.

You sigh as you flop back down on the bed, your brain a jumbled mess.

You believe more than anything that Saeran can make peace with the Ray part of himself if only he could see that neither part is better or worse than the other. 

Ray simply represents a part of a whole that Saeran doesn’t believe is strong enough to handle the savior... and Saeran doesn’t want to believe that he, as Saeran, can’t handle the savior or the cleansing or whatever else goes on around this place. He doesn’t want to face his weaknesses, which is why he is repressing Ray.

And what can you do besides have patience and sympathy while Saeran is trying to figure himself out?

Really, all you can do is wait for him to realize he is so much more than a pawn in someone else’s games... and hope neither part of him is destroyed as you wait for him to figure it out.


End file.
